


Crumbling Granite

by meditationsinemergencies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, F/M, Greenhouse Sex, Oral Sex, Rimming, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:40:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29706951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meditationsinemergencies/pseuds/meditationsinemergencies
Summary: Neville and Pansy spend their evening at his worktable.
Relationships: Neville Longbottom/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19
Collections: Orgasms for Days: A Smut for Cece Collective





	Crumbling Granite

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Charlie9646 for betaing!

Neville Longbottom wasn't confident in many things, but he was when it came to understanding plants and eating pussy. 

Both required patience and attention to detail, and a willingness to get messy, all things he very much possessed. 

Pansy had told him it was his callused hands, the way the rough pads of his fingers created a delicious friction against her clit. She has told him lots of other things, as well, but this stood out to Neville because whenever he felt the calluses or looked down at his hands, he couldn't stop himself from imagining her spread out before him. 

If he were being honest, which he always was, Neville enjoyed going down on Pansy more than burying his cock inside her. 

There was something about having someone like Pansy—someone who was confident, someone who was assertive, someone who was as smooth and hard as granite—crumble at each of his licks and sucks, at each delicate nibble. 

Neville had been in the greenhouses when she came in. She'd brought them dinner, knowing he had to stay in the greenhouse that evening to root a particularly peculiar plant at an exact time. Once he successfully rooted the plant, however, the dinner was forgotten, placed on a table without a stasis charm, and going cold. 

Pansy was bent over his worktable, her pencil skirt hiked up, her fingers gripping the wooden edge. His hips slapped against her arse cheeks, and he felt her clenching around him, almost to orgasm. He moved his hand around and rubbed a callused finger, knowingly and roughly against her swollen clit, and it wasn't long before she came. 

Neville grew more aroused at the thought of how good she'd taste now. She always tasted good—a delicate bitter sugar, but the way she tasted after she'd come was something even he couldn't describe; he just knew that he thought about it often, had brought himself to orgasm simply remembering how she tasted. 

He pulled out of her, and she groaned at the temporary emptiness. 

With her still bent over the table, he dropped to his knees. She opened her legs wider for him, and he ran his tongue along her swollen centre. He moaned at the first taste and pressed his tongue greedily into her. His face was burrowing against her, his cheekbones pressed against her arse, and with one hand on her thigh, he let the other rest by her arse, letting this thumb skirt and tease her sweet hole. Pansy whimpered when he pressed his thumb against it, not going inside of her, just putting pressure there, teasingly while he lapped up her come. His nose skimmed her slit as he moved his mouth to suck on her clitoris, pulling it slowly into his mouth, releasing it with a pop. 

His face was slick with her—she was so wet from her arousal, from his orgasm, from his cock pumping into her, and Neville never felt more glorious than when Pansy's nectar was on his cheeks and chin and lips and fingers. 

Slowly, he licked from her clit and along her labia, sucking the lips into his mouth, and running his tongue up to meet the carefully placed thumb. He slipped his thumb into her mouth, getting it wet, and gently pressed it into her arse, just a touch. She gasped and keened when he did this, and he smirked to himself. 

He let his hand move down and slipped his ring and index finger into her cunt, pumping them inside her. 

He loved this part. 

He loved fucking her hard with his fingers while gingerly licking and tonguing her arse. He moved the hand that was on her thigh up her arse, grasping onto her cheek. At first, his tongue glided in circles around her arsehole—slow and languid. Then he pressed his tongue flat against it before taking the tip of his tongue and slowly sliding it into her. Just barely, just enough. Just a taste.

This was what she loved; she loved the tease of it. The thrill of his tongue entering her just barely while his fingers pummeled in her. 

He knew that she was close and knew that she wanted to come so badly when she began to beg him. 

"Please…" she'd whine against his skin or the bedsheet or, in this case, his worktable. 

He then would take his free hand and suck one of his fingers into his mouth, wetting it, before sliding it torturously slowly into her arse. She'd clench around him, desperate for it, as he would slowly let his finger move inside her. 

Just as desperate for her, he dipped his head back down to her sopping cunt, and roughly licked her slit before sliding his tongue inside her, fucking her with it until she came again. Gripping the wood, her legs trembling. Eagerly he'd continue to enjoy her, slowing his movements, gently rubbing her legs and arse, and then kissing her clit, kissing her inner thighs, and trailing sweet pecks up her body and to her neck. 

Turning her head to the side to meet him, she kissed him, and he thought he might come himself at the thought of her tasting herself. Against his lips, she whispered, "Fuck me, Neville." 

He smiled against her kiss and nodded, "Yes. Of course." Grabbing onto her hips, he slid his cock inside her and did just as she asked. 


End file.
